


Happy Birthday

by atomicmayo



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicmayo/pseuds/atomicmayo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gift can be good, bad or in between - how a gift is used makes all the difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Floating Eyeball for a beta.

Stan Pines walks outside his house at 4:13 AM on each morning of Friday the 13th. He stands on his front steps and waits, but he never has to wait for very long. 

This particular morning of Friday the 13th, Stan was thankful for the warmth of the July air. The sun hadn't risen yet, and as the familiar trance washed over him, he stood in his undershirt and boxers. The ashtray next to him smoldered gently with what was left of Stan's first cigarette of the day. 

The old man scratched his stomach as the colors muted and ambient sound muffled around him. Reality quickly de-saturated itself. 

Blue flame clouded Stan's vision as a demon appeared in front of him. 

"Stan Pines, always good at keeping appointments, I see. How ya doing?"

"You should know, Bill."

A young woman prepared to give an address to the United Nations in New York, a glint of vanity in her eyes. 

"'The Eye of Providence sees all', huh?" Bill asked sarcastically.

Stan barked out a laugh, short and tense. He rested his arms on his aching knees, and felt the tattoo on his back itch as if it were fresh. 

"Just because you stole an image from the back of a dollar for whenever you show yourself, that doesn't make you God." Stan replied.

"You're just a demon." He added.

A man in Rio bristled with anger and threw a punch at a celebrity he had never met.

"Meh, six of one - half dozen of the other. I've got lots of names…" Bill replied.

"And you know lots of things, like that today is my birthday - so let's get this over with so I can get on with my day. I've got a crossword puzzle to cheat at."

The US Geological Survey office in Portland registered a slight earthquake that morning, as they had every Friday the 13th for the past decade. They had written it off as a practical joke by one of the researchers that had gone on entirely too long.

Bill and Stan's voices shattered into thousands of warped frequencies, all too high or low to be perceived by human ears.

The ritual began.

"'Be gone from this realm, demon.'" Stan demanded.

"'Give me the…' what? That's new." Bill said to himself. Stan blinked at the break in routine.

"Huh?"

An unemployed man danced in the mud at a concert in Seattle; hundreds of dollars shoved in his pockets.

A homeless nine year old helped herself to the contents of a candy store in Cairo.

An over-worked lawyer in Tokyo won her case and finally got to go on vacation with her family. 

Bill's control slipped and the dreams of six hundred and eighteen humans around the world shuddered with an uneasy pause - thousands of gallons of ice water down hundreds of backs. The demon's glowing eye narrowed with equal parts malice and realization. 

Stan and Bill's voices regulated themselves, the ritual abruptly over. 

The seismologist in Portland went back to sipping her morning coffee. 

"Oh, they're going to be powerful, too." Bill murmured, his tone opportunistic.

"What're you babbling about?"

"You should get on the horn and talk to your family. You've got a birthday present waiting for you."

Stan normally knew better than to stare up into Bill directly, but this time he glanced up.

"Don't bother trying to trick me. The twins aren't due for another two weeks!"

"Oh, it's no trick. Shooting Star and Pine Tree have shown up to the party early - not very fashionable, but whatever! It all works out the same in the end for me."

Stan silently mouthed the first few words back to himself and thought of blood stained pages in an old journal. A familiar sigil with Bill's image in the center raced through Stan's mind. He gaped, mouth opening and closing for a few seconds.

"It's not fair. I can't protect them - my family already thinks I'm nuts!"

"Stop your panicking, you old hack. You know you couldn't keep me in check forever."

"No, Bill. It can't happen."

"Not right now, it can't." Bill agreed. 

Stan froze.

"You're too much fun to just crush - and come on - newborn babies? How boring is that?"

Bill eased forward.

"I'm going to give you a head start. Call it a birthday present, of sorts."

Stan's eyes narrowed. Bill wasn't known for his generous nature.

"Go on." Stan prompted uneasily.

"They'll have until puberty. They won't be at their full strength until then, anyway - that gives you a good twelve, thirteen years?"

"I'll be pushing eighty. I'll probably be dead at the rate I'm going!"

"Not my problem, Big Fish. Besides, you aren't going anywhere. In fact, you have quite a few more birthdays coming to you, if you play your cards right."

Stan glanced down at the ashtray at his feet.

"I'll give you my word not to interfere until…"

The eye darted from side to side in contemplation. Thousands of realities collapsed, negated and reconstituted themselves.

"June 31st of 2012."

“Why then?”

“Oh, you’ll see - or you’ll at least hear about it after the fact.” Bill chuckled to punctuate the point.

“Why should I trust you to keep your word?”

“If I was okay with going back on my deals, do you think you’d still be here?”

Stan shook the tiny black hand that reached down to him. Blue flame enveloped them both.

"I will return for you, Stanford Pines."

Stan awoke with a start, a shrill laugh still ringing in his ears. The sun was starting to shine through the trees. 

He picked up the newspaper now lying at his feet and went inside. He threw his cigarettes in the trash and picked up his telephone.

"Yeah, hello? I need to place a collect call to California."


End file.
